


Pendulum

by Baneberry



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Hypnotism, M/M, Mind Control, Squick, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Stimulation Overload, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 17:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12893331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baneberry/pseuds/Baneberry
Summary: Tick tick tick.





	Pendulum

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this half-asleep. Please excuse errors.

The tick-click-tick-click of Sunder’s needle on his folded hands sounded like pounding thunder in Froid’s audiols, blocking and muffling his whimpers and moans.

Sunder sat only a few feet away, right in front of him; haunched over, a menacing silhouette in the dimly lit room. Elbows on his knees, toothy grin hidden behind his hands, watching Froid, never once blinking. Despite the fact Froid was staring Sunder directly in his optics, he couldn’t see him. A thousand other images flooded his mind; a thousand different scenarios, a thousand ways Froid saw himself ravaged, ravished, taken, and brought to his knees.

But all Froid could hear was that needle. Slender, sharp, protracted from index finger and tap-tap-tapping on a knuckle. Amused, playful. It was hypnotic, consuming, and in the many visions Froid was subjected to, the faint ticking of the needle thrummed in the background. Every one of them. Over screams and groans and pleas and cries of ecstasy.

Froid writhed on the slab, having worn grooves into the sleek metal with his fingers, denting the sides where he held and squeezed. Still raking his long digits until the edges were raw of their blue paint and a base silver. Every inch of his sinewy, gangly frame shivering, plating and armor rattling against his chassis. Though Froid shook his head every now and then, it was never enough to break eye contact with Sunder, quietly lording over him from his chair at his feet.

Froid’s legs were locked open, the actuators strained and numb. His channel exposed, the folds engorged, inner walls fluttering with arousal. Unit twitched and fully erect. He’d overloaded countless times already, forming a small puddle of lubricant and transfluid beneath him. Fresh and drying fluids caking his groin, thighs, mid-section, even his chin during one _very_ powerful unit overload. Froid’s optics were wide, bulging from their sockets, his white apertures switching erratically from dilated to tiny pin-pricks; a total, complete wreck, crying and choking and lost inside his head and numerous assaulting fantasies.

The corners of Sunder’s grin appear from behind his woven hands. “Perhaps I ought to give you a break,” he mused, still tapping the needle, still holding Froid’s petrified gaze. “You’re going to overload yourself dry, until there’s nothing left to keep you from overheating and catching fire.” Sunder laughed low and deep.

Froid just stared–no–looked through Sunder. Captured in his hypnotic trap. “Who would have thought you’d have such a filthy, filthy mind, doctor,” Sunder purred. “Watching you take and be taken in all these delicious, _vicious_ ways…” He cocked a browplate, his right optic flashing. The needle double-clicked–

Froid shrieked and arched off the slab, overloading and splashing transfluid down his legs. Some of it splattered on the ground; Sunder smirked at the single drop that hit the edge of his foot. “I’ve only scratched the surface of your dark desires, Froid. I wonder if I were to truly dig deeper… What sort of arousing monstrosities would I find?”

Froid flopped back onto the slab, venting heavily, optics hooded and thighs twitching. Exhausted. He needed rest, he needed to refuel, but then Sunder resumed clicking the needle, caught Froid’s gaze again, and plunged inside. A force invisible but so powerful, impaling the core of Froid’s mind, puncturing neurons with thousands of tiny little needles.

Froid whimpered painfully, jerking to the side, thrown back into a pit of hands and mouths and tongues and wet, elongated, nightmarish things that fondled, groped, and penetrated him.

“It’s tempting,” Sunder hummed, “to rewrite everything. Break you apart, rebuild you. I could make you whatever I wanted. Make you just as hideous on the outside as you are inside.” His finials flickered, maniacal grin splitting his face. “Then you’d be my pet monster.” He chuckled as Froid dug and scraped the heels of his boots into the slab. “No, no. It’s a partnership. Symbiotic. Isn’t that right?”

Froid gasped, loud and ragged, as he overloaded, this time from his unit. Not nearly as powerful–he was excruciatingly low on stamina. Soon he’d be running on nothing but fumes. Sunder liked the idea, however; liked the image of milking Froid until his tired, overworked gears started burning, and smoke billowed from his seams. How pretty that would look.

“I could make everything so sensitive, the slightest touch would break you apart,” Sunder leered. “The line between pleasure and pain completely erased. You’d overload as I gut and bled you dry. But I wouldn’t kill you; you wouldn’t bore me enough to do that. I could just remake you into something different.”

Froid mewled, optics squinting and burning. Not enough coolant to produce sufficient amount of tears. His hips undulated into the air, wanton and desperate and disgustingly pathetic. Sunder tried not to guffaw, licking his lips sluggishly. “I like you as you are. For now. You provide, you entertain. You know your place. So I think I’ll keep you a bit longer. Your taste has not yet gone sour.”

“Rhh–!” Froid croaked, voice strained and static-laced.

“Nothing ever lasts forever. One day I will break you,” Sunder stated, rising from his chair. “For your sake, pray that means death.”

The needle retracted back into Sunder’s fingers. Froid suddenly blinked, going almost entirely still. He looked around the room, dazed and confused. “H-How l–…” His voice cut out, and he grabbed at his throat, wincing at the heat coming off his cables and plating. Froid looked down quickly, grimacing at the mess.

Sunder moved between Froid’s legs, hands on his knees. He didn’t answer, just bowed his head and started licking up all the transfluid and lubricant. First from the slab, and Froid was too tired to move. He… didn’t really want to.

Though Froid had finished “feeding” Sunder, he stayed where he was. Partially curious, partially afraid, but so very, very aroused. Surprising, considering Froid probably couldn’t get a single drop out of another overload. Dry ones were too painful–burned, stung. But Froid stayed, and he watched, until Sunder starting licking and lapping his wet tongue up his thighs, coating them lavishly in globs and strings of coolant.

Froid gasped when Sunder wormed his tongue inside his stretched channel. He grabbed at the radar dish on top of Sunder’s head, holding on and yet pushing lightly. Sunder took him by the hips, held him firmly in place, wiggling and thrusting his tongue deeper inside the Autobot. He swirled his tongue, rolled and pressed it up, until he was massaging Froid’s anterior node.

“S-Sun–!” Froid yelped, hooking his legs around the giant bot. Sunder’s chuckle reverberated inside his channel, tickling. He started moving and pumping his tongue, much like a unit. His teeth grazed dangerously along Froid’s folds, venting hot, oily air against his plating.

Just as Froid was about to reach his final overload, Sunder bit down on his ceiling node, piercing and drawing energon. Froid screamed as he climaxed, squirting both a little transfluid and energon in Sunder’s mouth. The large bot cackled, continued swallowing up the mess he made. Froid wanted to throw him out, but knew better.

“Was th– necc–?” Froid grunted, massaging between his optics.

Sunder suckled on the bleeding node, and Froid shifted a little. “Everything ‘til now was sweet,” he said, referring to the transfluid and lubricant, “but this? Much richer, heavier. A good way to end the meal.”

Froid looked annoyed, but was using what little strength he had left to keep himself from shaking.


End file.
